Blood on the Risers

to the tune of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"
Revised and edited for sport by Little David

First jumper on the wingstrut called the spotter as he looked
Our hero now was fearless for he'd read Russ Gunby's book
He jumped right out into the blast, his static line unhooked
He ain't going to jump no more.

Chorus:

Gory, Gory, what a helluva way to die,
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die
Gory, gory what a helluva way to die
He ain't going to jump no more.

He counted long, he counted loud, six thousand was his goal
He tumbled out of stable and began a forward roll
He spun out flat, began to dive and went out of control
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

The risers wrapped around his neck, connectors cracked his dome
The lines were snarled and tied in knots around his skinny bones
The canopy became his shroud, he hurtled to the ground
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

He pulled the handle on his reserve and threw it far away
He tried to grab the skirt, but all his thumbs got in the way
He threw it out all full of holes and then began to pray
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

The days he'd lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind
He thought about the girl below, the one he'd left behind
He thought about the medico's and wondered what they'd find
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

The ambulance was on the spot, its mighty siren wailed
The medics rolled their sleeves and smiled as through the air he sailed
For it had been a week or more since last a chute had failed
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

The drop zone coming fast, a hundred miles or more
"I get his helmet and his boots," he heard a buddy roar
He bounced around the runway in the welter of his gore
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

His pelvis crashed into his chest, his ribs poked through his side
His helmet bounced a hundred feet, his head was still inside
The ground crew stood there laughing as he rolled around and died
He ain't gonna jump no more.

Chorus (above)

There was blood up in the risers
There were brains up in the chute
Intestines were a dangling from his paratrooper's boots.
They picked him up, still in chute, but he poured right to the floor
He ain't gonna jump no more!